Shell Mates
by Aurora Lenore
Summary: When Reginald Barclay is befriended by fellow shipmate Armanya Collins, he is happy to have found someone who seems to understand him. But while Barclay begins to secretly pine for her affections, Armanya's secret could not only break his heart, but possibly cost him his life!
1. Party Favors

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Trek: TNG or it's awesome characters. I only own Armanya who is stuck inside the Jeffries tube in my mind.**

 **SIDE NOTE: I am not what you would call a "Techie Trekkie". I do not understand the terminology regarding the ship and it's inner workings. This is why I tend to focus on people and the relationships aboard the ship, instead. Sue me. And if I get good reviews and quieries on my OC's past, I will upload a story I wrote years ago regarding her life pre-Enterprise and post-Enterprise. But for now, I introduce this lil gem.**

* * *

"You're coming to the party, aren't you?"

Lieutenant Reginald Barclay had just exited his quarters when he found himself standing face to face with his commanding officer, Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge.

"M-me? A party? What's the-the occasion?" Barclay stammered in his usual nervous tone.

"Lieutenant Armanya Collins is returning from her three month holiday," he replied, smiling. "You should meet her. Trust me when I say once you have met her, you'll never forget it."

"Is she the h-human officer you and Lieutenant Data found stuck inside one of the Jeffries tubes more than a year ago?"

Geordi chuckled. "The very same. Data brought her to Ten-Forward a few minutes ago and she had no idea about the party. Besides, you _have_ to come. I'm sure she'll want to meet you since the two of you will be working closely on specific future projects."

Barclay opened his mouth to protest, but the visor-wearing man grabbed his arm and led him in the direction of the lounge. Why did he have to _insist_ on forcing him to mingle with the crew and complete strangers? Geordi of all people shoud know how he struggled with social interaction. _This is going to be a complete and total nightmare; maybe after a few minutes, I can slip into the holodeck and-_

"Go grab some punch; I'll be right back to introduce you," Geordi cut into his thoughts before he wandered off.

Barclay decided to do as he was told and poured himself a cup of Guinan's famous fruit punch. _Maybe if I stand very still over here by the wall, no one will notice me,_ he thought to himself, watching the interaction between the crew.

"Aw, thank you, Fuzzy Man!" she heard a female voice exclaim to Thralen, the _Enterprise's_ sociologist as the blue-skinned Theskian hugged her tightly.

 _Perhaps_ she _is Collins,_ Barclay wondered, as he watched the back of her return the warm embrace. He forced himself to look away, instead deciding to use his energy to stare at a large stain on the floor.

"So, do you always hold the wall up at parties or is this one just a special occasion?" a female voice suddenly asked from beside him.

Barclay jumped slightly and looked up before glancing at the woman who was talking to him. As soon as his eyes locked onto hers, he lost his breath completely. She was beautiful! "I-uh, w-well I-" he stammered, trying not to look at her deep blue eyes for too long, fearing if he did, he would melt.

"It was a joke," she smiled. "I'm Lieutenant Armanya Collins, by the way."

Barclay stared at her outstretched hand for a moment before shaking it, mentally cursing that his palms were cold and clammy. "Lieutenant Reginald-Reg-Barclay."

"I thought so. Nice to meet you," she replied, extracting her hand from his, her dark blonde wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you since I've returned. We'll be working together, but there are a few things you should probably know about me beforehand."

 _Like to stay out of your way and mind my own business,_ he thought to himself miserably. As popular as she seemed to be with the crew, if he made her angry, the rest of the team would be quick to defend her and reprimand _him._

"Did you eat any of the cake?" she asked, not leaving her post beside him.

"The c-cake? Uh, no. Not yet," he managed to reply.

She looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. "You _do_ like cake, don't you?"

Barclay nodded, looking at the massive chocolate cake. "Yes. Very much so."

"Good. You were scaring me for a minute. I tell you what; why don't you cut a decently big slice of that cake and you and I can split it later?" She looked at her watch. "I have something to take care of with Chief O'Brien, but what do you say you meet me back here in two hours? Just tell Guinan to put the cake on ice until then. Okay?"

Barclay nodded again, feeling both excited and queasy. She wanted to share her cake and talk to him... _privately_!

Suddenly, he realized he was really going to be alone with this beautiful stranger and his pulse began to race and a bead of sweat formed along his brow.

"Lieutenant Barclay; are you feeling satisfactory? You look rather ill," Lieutenant Commander Data asked him as he passed by with Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

"I-I'm fine. It's just suddenly...warm in here."

Data looked at him, his head covked ever-so-slightly. "The current temperature in this room is at sixty-eight degrees fahrenheit. Perhaps you should allow Doctor Crusher to assist you to sick bay."

 _Sick bay! That's it! I'm sick. I can't go because I'm-_

"I think this piece will be big enough for the both of you, don't you think?" Guinan's voice asked, cutting his thought process short.

He looked at her strangely as she held in her hands a decently sized piece of cake on a plate. "Wha-how-?"

"I work here; sometimes, I hear things. Now do you want me to put this piece away for you and Lieutenant Collins or not?"

Barclay looked down as if he had been caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. "That would be fine. Thank you," he muttered before walking out of Ten-Forward, embarrassed and terrified.

* * *

"I still can't believe you are going to go on a date with Lieutenant _Broccoli_ ," Chief Miles O'Brien shook his head as they stood inside the transporter room.

"It's not a date. We are sharing cake and discussing-did you say Lieutenant Broccoli?" Armanya asked mid-sentence.

"It's a little nickname Wesley Crusher came up with."

Armanya rolled her eyes, her annoyance with Doctor Beverly Crusher's son obvious. "I should've known that spoiled pipsqueak would've done such a thing. But that's beside the point. The point _is_ , I need to let him know about me. My abilities and all that. Besides, he's human, I'm human, we were _both_ miserable when we first arrived, et cetera. And also like Barclay, I didn't make many friends at the start, either. If it wasn't for Data and Geordi, I know without a doubt, my life would have taken a very bad turn. Maybe that's all Barclay needs, as well."

"I didn't think about it like that," O'Brien confesssed, making slight adjustments to the transporter.

"And I believe it was a certain _chief_ who said over a year ago that perhaps I should be sent back to Earth in a nice little package," she added with a mischevious twinkle in her eye.

O'Brien stared at her, mouth open and face turning red. "Well, I-who told you-?"

Armanya giggled and swatted him playfully on the arm. "I'm not angry. It's okay. I admit I _was_ a very troubled individual."

"You still are. But you are just the kind of trouble the USS Enterprise needs from time to time," O'Brien teased, winking at her.

* * *

Guinan watched Barclay closely as he entered the now nearly vacant lounge and walked towards her at the bar. He looked completely miserable.

"I'll have that cake now," he said softly. "And a glass of milk. Cold."

"Coming right up," she told him. "You sure you don't want a milkshake? Collins will order one. She likes strawberry and banana."

Barclay wrinkled his nose instinctively. "Cold milk will be fine."

A minute later, Guinan came back withe the cake and his milk. "You don't have to look so depressed. Most guys would be ecstatic to have a woman keep them company."

"It's not that...it's just-I'm not very good with conversation. She's so...at ease here and I-well, I am not. I just don't understand why she wants to have her c-cake with _me_."

"Maybe because she is more like you than you think," Guinan pointed out. "Collins didn't exactly fit in here, either, when she first came. First week she was here? She locked herself in the holodeck and cried. Every night, Data would find her in the empty holodeck."

"She-she _did_? But _why_?" he asked, leaning forward.

"You'll have to ask _her_ that question," Guinan replied, nodding her head towards the door, where Armanya had just entered.


	2. Getting To Know You

_Oh God; oh God, she showed up!_ Barclay panicked as he saw her walk in. _Stay calm, Reg. just stay calm and find a table._

"Your usual, Armanya?" Guinan asked.

"Vanilla sounds good tonight," she replied, taking a seat across from where Barclay stood at a table with his milk and cake.

As he sat down, he watched as she expertly cut the cake in half, placing her piece on a saucer in front of her. "So, how do you like the _Enterprise_ so far?" she asked, licking a dab of frosting from her finger.

Barclay took a forkful of cake and swallowed it, chasing it down with a huge gulp of milk. "I am enjoying it very much. It's both a c-challenge and a brilliantly crafted, uh, ship."

Armanya gave him a sideways grin. "I see. The crew treating you well?"

"Yes. Is it alright if I ask _you_ a question, Lieutenant Collins?"

"If you call me Armanya, then yes," she smiled as Guinan handed her the milkshake. "Ask me whatever you wish."

"Why...why me? Why do you want to speak to me?"

"Because I think you and I are a lot alike. I wasn't always a 'social Starfleet butterfly', per se. It took time. I was so reclusive when I first arrived, the Captain was afraid I would never be able to make it. If it wasn't for Lieutenant Commanders Data and Geordi, I probably-no, I _would_ -have ended it. Let's just say my life back on Earth was anything but pleasant. I spent my entire life searching for acceptance, love and friendship. Until I joined the crew here and became a part of this." she gestured around with her hands, "I never found any of that. This place saved my life."

Barclay couldn't believe it. This beautiful, smiling woman in front of her was at one time _suicidal_? "I-I did not know that. I'm glad you finally found happiness."

"Thank you. For a long time, I was afraid to let people know about my abilities. One I was born with and another was sort of an unfortunate accident that caused me both great joy and pain. Physically and emotionally," she continued, taking a bit of cake.

"Abilities? What abilities? Lieutenant Commander La Forge said that you were 'special', but I wasn't quite sure what he meant." As soon as Barclay said the word "special" his face turned red and he felt ridiculous for even saying anything.

To his surprise, Armanya giggled. "I'll show you one now. See Guinan's blender over there?" she pointed and Barclay turned to see it. "She has been making drink concoctions all day with it. But that's about to change in five...four...three...two..."

As soon as she said "one", Barclay watched as Guinan tried to turn the blender on but nothing happened. He tried not to smile as he heard Guinan mutter something profane under her breath. Turning back to Armanya, he stared at her, wide-eyed. "You caused her blender to malfunction?"

"No. But I _felt_ something was wrong. Years ago, there was a chemical spill and I was affected. It caused strange things to happen to me and one of them is that I _feel_ when something is wrong with a small machine or electrical device. I know when lights are going to go out, when your watch is about to stop working and when a combadge is about to short out. I have more difficulties with bigger devices, such as the innerworkings of the ship, but I hope to one day be able to feel those, as well."

Knowing his jaw was hanging open, he immediately shoved a huge forkful of cake into his open mouth. How he wished _he_ had that ability. What confidence it would give him. How impressed others would be. How on Earth could that cause her great pain in _any_ form?

Suddenly, her hand touched his and he felt a warm sensation from his head to his toes. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

"Please don't choke on cake," she told him softly before giggling. "It's good, but not worth dying for."

Barclay managed to swallow his cake and chuckled softly. "I'm sorry. Oh; you were going to tell me about another ability you had."

"Yes, I-" she began.

"La Forge to Barclay; I need you in the transporter room," Geordi's voice came through his combadge.

"Go. I'll tell you about it later," she whispered as he drank the last of his milk and stood up.

Barclay nodded. "T-thank you for the cake. And the company," he told her before leaving, silently cursing La Forge's terrible timing.

* * *

Armanya continued to sip her milkshake quietly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"So when was the last time you heard from him?" Guinan asked, walking towards her.

"I'm sorry?" she asked innocently.

"You _know_ who I'm talking about. When was the last time you heard from the troublemaker?"

Armanya looked down. "Too long. Which scares me. I keep thinking perhaps he got into trouble for what happened six months ago."

Guinan sat down in Barclay's empty spot. "I can feel his presence nearby. He's going to come back for you, you know."

"Guinan, I really hope your wrong. While a part of me does miss him, a larger part of me is terrified of what could happen when he _does_ return."

"Just know you got plenty of people here that have your back. We won't let him hurt you."

Armanya looked at her. "It's not _me_ that I worry for. I worry that he will hurt someone else. Someone he knows I care deeply about."

And as Armanya drank the last of her milkshake, she knew that Guinan knew exactly who she was afraid for.

* * *

"Oh, Armanya; what little faith you put forth in me. I would never _hurt_ anyone unless they hurt _you_. I only wish to _play_ with them, like pawns on a chessboard. Besides, none of them are good enough for you, anyway. Not Lieutenant Comander Data or La Forge, not that pesky Theskian Thralen or that boorish O'Brien. Although, this _new_ fellow seems rather intruiguing. _He_ could be my new conquest."

A chessboard appeared in the midst of space, and he grabbed one of the pawns, which morphed into a small figurine of Lieutenant Reginald Barclay. "Checkmate!" he cried before the piece disintegrated into his hands, causing him to laugh like a mischevious child.

* * *

 **END NOTE: Anyone have any guesses to who this mischevious character could be? I'll give you a hint: while he does not appear in any ST:TNG episodes, he is a main character in my favorite ST:TNG book.**


	3. Curiouser and Curiouser

As soon as Barclay finished his work in the engineering room, he quickly ran back to Ten-Forward, hoping she would still be there, but the place was empty with the exception of a few Klingons and Ensign Wesley Crusher. _Did you really think she would still be here waiting on you?_ he asked himself skeptically. Shoulders drooping, he made his way back to the direction of his quarters.

Suddenly, he got an idea. Stopping five doors down from his room, he pressed the intercom button. "Lieutenant Commander, Data, it's Lieutenant Barclay. May I come in?"

The doors to Data's room open hissed open and Barclay walked inside, to find Data sitting at his computer, his pet cat Spot curled up in his lap. The android turned to look at him. "Good evening, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"I—I was just wondering if you've seen Arm—Lieutenant Collins lately?" he stammered, not daring to look into Data's eyes. He liked Data but was always wondering if he could look at a person and read their thoughts. He prayed that wasn't true, because Data would definitely question what he was thinking. Especially as he remembered what Armanya's touch felt like on his skin.

"No, I have not. Perhaps you should check her private quarters," the android suggested.

Instead, Barclay pointed to a seat next to a strange potted plant. "May I?"

"Of course," Data replied, gently removing Spot from his lap and standing. "Would you care for a cold beverage or perhaps some soothing music?"

"Music might be nice," Barclay shrugged.

"Program: play music," Data instructed and within seconds later, a haunting yet beautiful melody began to sound.

"Nice. Very…enchanting," Barclay leaned back in his chair.

"It is Lieutenant Collins' voice," Data declared, nearly causing Barclay to fall out of his chair.

"That's… _her_ singing?" he gaped. As Data confirmed, he listened to her sing for a minute. While she had a very melodic voice, it also revealed a chilling sadness that gave him goosebumps yet made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. "When did she-?"

"She began recording music professionally while on Earth, approximately seven-point-eight years ago. While she was never quite popular on her planet, she is quite a musical enigma on at least seven planets we have encountered in our travels. At the request of Officer Worf, she programmed her music into the computer."

"What else can you tell me about her? We were talking in Ten-Forward and I was called away before she could finish. She claimed to have another ability other than being able to empathize with small electronics."

"Well, she is one of four sleep-porters in all the known galaxies," Data informed him. "That was how she managed to appear aboard the _Enterprise_ , albeit it was through our Jeffries tube."

"Is there anything this woman _cannot_ do?" Barclay asked aloud.

"I can list a total of eight thousand seventy six things that Lieutenant Collins is unable to do," Data began, but Barclay put his hand up with a small smile.

"That's alright. I was asking a rhetorical question." Barclay stood up, suddenly excited. "Well, I thank you for telling me more about her. Have a good evening, Lieutenant Commander."

"You do the same, Lieutenant Barclay," Data echoed, but Barclay was already out of his quarters. So she had empathy for machines, a hidden sadness that still lingered from her past, enchanting beauty and she could teleport while sleeping! He couldn't wait; he had to see her again immediately!

* * *

"Oh! Terribly sorry, Counselor!"

Deanna Troi looked up to see Armanya and she smiled. "It's quite alright. I should be watching where I am going, perhaps. Actually, I _did_ wish to speak to you briefly. I wanted to commend you on getting to know Lieutenant Barclay. He could use a good friend to speak to."

"He's a sweet guy. Geordi asked me to introduce myself since we'd be working together from time to time. Not to mention, I can relate a bit to how he's feeling."

"I know you can. But I do feel the need to also _warn_ you; there is a chance Reg could misconstrue your budding friendship as something more. I am sure you know that Reg is rather lonely and I fear that his friendship with you could allow him to think that there are deeper feelings beneath the surface."

Armanya raised an eyebrow at her. "Surely not. We shared cake and had a twenty minute discussion. Surely that is not nearly enough time for him to think I'm dating material."

"Normally, I would agree, but I can tell you from personal experience, that may not be the case with Reg. I met with him briefly when he had just started here. He suffers from holo-addiction and it seems he was…acting out his true feelings in one of the programs," Troi explained.

"Really?" Armanya questioned, unable to hide her amusement. "What kind of program did he create to 'act out' these feelings?"

Deanna sighed. "He created a program in which he simulated the actual crew into workings of his own design. He engaged in swordfights with La Forge, the Captain and Data as a villainous version of the Three Musketeers. He portrayed Doctor Crusher to be a provider of relaxation therapy and we aren't entirely sure what he emulated First Officer Riker to be."

"And he simulated you as his girlfriend?"

"Worse," Troi recounted. "I was the…Goddess of Empathy."

Armanya giggled. "Cute."

Troi furrowed her brow. "It was not 'cute'. However, this seemed to be of some comfort to Reg and he tended to hide from the real world. As much as I am hoping you can be of some relief to his holo-addiction, I fear that he could include you into his fantasy world, as well."

"Well, I'm not worried. There is absolutely no way that Barclay could be under the impression that there could ever be something between us."

Troi looked at her curiously. "What makes you say _that_ , Armanya?"

"Why Barclay couldn't possibly like me for more than a friend?"

"No," Troi shook her head." The other part. That there never _could_ be anything between you and Reg. I actually believe that you and he might actually be a good match after some time."

Armanya scratched her head. "Oh. Yeah, I forgot. I _did_ say that, didn't I?" She then looked at her watch. "Deanna, I really need to go. I am late to…something," she mumbled incoherently before she dashed off, leaving a bewildered Deanna standing there.


	4. Revelations

**SIDE NOTE: One person asked in a PM if Picard would make an appearance. Yes, he will. This story still has so much more to tell. And I am somewhat disheartened that no one guessed my mysterious pest feared by Armanya and felt by Guinan (no, it's not Q but close). Guesses are still very much welcome, as are reviews. I cannot wait to dive into future chapters. Gonna be so...much...fun.**

* * *

Geordi peered inside the engineering room and frowned. Two members of his team were missing. One of them _had_ an excuse; the other one did not. Normally, he would have searched for the ever-absent Barclay via combadge, but their programs were temporarily offline. He had allowed his other absent team member, Armanya, to discuss recent findings with Thralen before returning. Geordi had checked for Barclay in his quarters, Ten-Forward and even in the holodeck rooms earlier, but there had been no sign of him. He checked Armanya's quarters and was met with her "pet" robot Wakamaru, who informed him Barclay was not found, albeit in Japanese. It was like the Lieutenant had just disappeared. "Worf, have you seen Barclay?" he asked as the security officer passed by.

"No, I haven't," the Klingon growled in his usual no-nonsense manner, not stopping to chat further.

Sighing in disappointment, Geordi made his way to the bridge. "Has anyone here seen Lieutenant Barclay?"

"Broccoli a no-show again?" Wesley scoffed.

"Haven't seen him, Geordi," came Riker's sympathetic response.

Data turned around seconds later in his chair at the ship controls. "Lieutenant Barclay stopped by my quarters earlier for a visit approximately one half hour ago."

"Did he say where he was going afterwards?"

"No, he did not, but he appeared rather eager as he exited."

"Thanks, Data," Geordi nodded, heading back to the engineering room. His frown turned into a hopeful smile when he saw who had returned. "Armanya. Glad to see you. Have you seen Reg?"

Armanya turned to him. "No, not since you called him away a few hours ago. Something wrong?"

"Yeah. He was supposed to be _here_ , helping with diagnostics. I've looked _everywhere_."

Armanya turned back to her work. "I'm sure he'll turn up. Maybe Deanna is with him."

Geordi touched her shoulder. "Good idea. I didn't think of that. Does he have a session scheduled with her?"

"Heck if I know. I just had a conversation with her earlier. A strange one. She is afraid the poor guy is gonna fall madly in love with me because we broke cake together," she giggled at her own joke.

"Well, he _did_ fall for Deanna after a session with her," Geordi recalled.

"Yes, but she's...Deanna. I'm just plain old Armanya Collins. Besides, I can't reciprocate those feelings because-" she stopped.

"Are you still having those dreams about Data?" he whispered.

Armanya looked at him again, exhasperated. "You tell somebody about a few dreams of where Data is human and we are _together_ and suddenly you think that's the reason for everything. And I thought we were never to bring that up again," she hissed.

"Sorry, but I thought that's the reason-"

"Well, you are wrong," she interrupted.

"Sir, the combadges are back online," Lieutenant Tardow stated.

"Thank you," Geordi nodded before tapping his badge. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Barclay?"

"Lieutenant Barclay is on Holodeck Four," came the computer's reply.

"Damn it," Geordi muttered.

"I'll get him," Armanya smiled. "Just do me a favor, okay? Can you, uh, try to keep a watch out for Data and possibly Thralen for a while?"

"Of course, but why?"

Armanya swallowed hard. "Because I have a bad feeling you-know-who could return soon. I can't allow him to try and hurt either one of them. Please?"

"If you really feel he could come back, the Captain should be alerted."

"I'll tell him later. Right now, I need to get Barclay and you need to work on com-porter number eight. It's going to need a recharge booster."

"Thanks," Geordi replied as she walked out of engineering. Surely she was right about the com-porter, but he hoped she was wrong regarding the other matter.

* * *

"Let's just see where you and the Goddess of Empathy are today," she giggled to herself as she unlocked the doors to the holodeck room.

As she entered, she realized the enitre room was the starlit sky and she gingerly stepped forward, having to remind herself she wouldn't fall. In the background, she could hear an orchestra playing a lovely waltz, but she couldn't see anyone. Taking a few more steps, she inaudibly gasped as she saw Lieutenant Barclay, dancing with a simulated version of _herself_!

"Dancing with you is like dancing on air," Barclay told 'Armanya'.

"That's because we _are_ dancing on air, silly Reg!"

 _Silly Reg?_ Armayna thought to herself, shaking her head but unable to stop watching.

"Indeed we are. So, my dear; where shall our dreams teleport us tonight?"

'Armanya' smiled and looked into his eyes. "Wherever you wish to go."

"As long as I am with you, I don't care _where_ we travel. Oh, Armanya..."

 _I have to stop this! This cannot be_ happening _!_ Armanya's brain screamed, but she was only able to make a slight choking noise.

Barclay looked up and saw the real Armanya, his face both shocked and embarrassed. "I-Armanya-" he sputtered, letting go of the simulation.

"It's-it's o-"

"End program," Barclay interrupted and the holodeck images disappeared. "I'm sorry," he managed to say before he ran past her and out of the holodeck.

Armanya, unsure of what to think or feel, did the only thing she could do: she called his name and ran after him.

* * *

Barclay ran into his quarters but Armanya was right on his tail and slipped inside before the doors hissed shut. _Maybe if I keep my back turned to her, she'll just leave me be,_ he told himself, not daring to look at her.

"Barclay, it-it's okay. I'm not angry. A little shocked, but not angry."

"So you don't think I'm a miserable person for simulating you to express my-my personal feelings?"

"No! Of course not!" she grabbed his arm and turned him around. "I think it's kind of sweet. Strangely sweet."

Barclay looked at her hopefully. "You really think so?" Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she was planning on confessing that she, too, had feelings for him. As she opened her mouth, Barclay's heart rose into his throat. She was going to tell him she cared for him, too!

"Yes, but you-you have to stop. You cannot have these...feelings for me. We can only be friends."

"Wait-what?" Barclay asked, his heart now dropping into his stomach.

"I'm flattered that you feel this way, but you just _can't_. You have to let it go," she repeated, her eyes almost pleading with him.

"But I-I _do_ care for you and I _can't_ shut it off like-" Barclay stepped closer to her, grabbing her hand impulsively. His feelings for her were so strong that it terrified him, but as she instantly pulled away, he felt as if he were scaring _her_ , as well.

"You _have_ to, Reg. It's not a suggestion. I care for you as a crew mate and as a friend, but we could never be together; _never_!"

Now Barclay was beginning to feel angry. "So, let me ask you this: did you have any intention at _all_ of talking to me or did Lieutenant La Forge put you up to it?"

"Yes! No! I mean-" Armanya sputtered. "Yes, Geordi asked me to introduce myself and talk to you, but I would have anyway, regardless! It was my idea to share the cake and meet in Ten-Forward after the party. I think you are a wonderful person, Reg, but I cannot have a relationship with you or anyone else! I just _can't_."

Barclay watched as tears filled her eyes before she turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her cry. He started to put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly, but refrained. "I don't understand; why would you _say_ something like that? Doesn't everyone _deserve_ to be loved? I know you have a sad past, but it doesn't mean that you never deserve to be _happy_."

Armanya kept her back to him. "It's complicated, Reg. It's extremely complicated and I don't want you to-"

"She doesn't want you to find out the _truth_ ," a voice spoke to them from behind. "The dear girl already belongs to someone... _me_!"

Barclay and Armanya both spun around at the voice, surprised to see another person inside the quarters. As Barclay looked to Armanya, however, her face did not reciprocate the smile beaming on the stranger's face. Instead, _her_ face looked as if she had just seen a ghost. A very unwelcome ghost.


	5. An Unwelcome Visitor

**SIDE NOTE: I received some _very_ good guesses as to who my villian would be. But sadly, none of them were correct. Being as my favorite ST:TNG book is Peter David's "Q-Squared", I thought said villian would make the ****_perfect_** **frienemy for Armanya. So without further introduction, my pest is...**

* * *

"Trelane! What are you _doing_ here?"

Barclay looked at the thin, wavy-haired gentleman and felt as if he'd stepped into another dimension. He was dressed in a white ruffled shirt underneath a blue tailcoat with threaded gold designs. Looking down, Barclay also took note of his blue riding pants and his black boots. His white ascot was tucked tightly under his chin and his facial expression was one of sheer confidence and mischief. Where exactly did this man _come_ from? He looked like a character ripped from a catalog from at _least_ five or more centuries ago!

"What am I _doing_ here?" the man mocked. "Why, I've come to only say greetings and felicitations as always! It's been _such_ a long time, my dear; has it not?"

"You never come just to say hello. It's always far more complicated. And wherever you are, trouble follows right behind, so I sug-" Armanya argued, but was cut short.

"And _you_ are?" Trelane asked, arching his eyebrow suspiciously at Barclay.

"I am Lieutenant Regi-Reginald Barclay," he introduced, extending his hand politely.

"I _see_ ," Trelane replied distastefully, snubbing his nose and looking back at Armanya. "Armanya, my darling, perhaps you can call off your guard puppy Reg-Reject," he said with a chuckle, "so we may speak in private."

" _Trelane_!" she glowered. "Leave him alone."

Barclay opened his mouth, so desperately wanting to tell Trelane where he could go with his rude mouth and abhorrant style, but he knew he wouldn't. Instead, he watched sadly as Armanya turned to him, her eyes pleading. "Reg, it will only take a few minutes, I promise."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he whispered.

"I'll be fine," she mouthed back, but her facial expression did not convince him.

"She said you can _go_ now, Reject," Trelane spat, receiving another icy stare from Armanya.

Barclay solemnly nodded and exited his own quarters. As soon as he left, he felt both furious and concerned. _Should I go for an emergency session with Deanna?_ he wondered, looking back at the door. _No, Reg; be a man. You need to inform the Captain of what is taking place._

Nodding to his own conscience, he tapped his combadge. "Computer: locate Captain Picard."

"Captain Picard is located in Ready Room," the computer responded.

It only took him a couple of minutes for his long legs to swiftly walk to Picard's ready room. Heart in his throat, he pressed the intercom button. "Captain, it's Lieutenant Barclay. I need to see you, if it's alright."

"You may enter," Picard's voice replied before the doors hissed open. Barclay walked in, straightening his uniform. "Mr. Barclay; what may I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you about Arma-Lieutenant Collins, sir. I think she may be in trouble."

Picard looked up at him from his seat behind his desk and laced his fingers together. "What makes you think she's in peril, Lieutenant?"

"Well, a strange man appeared in my quarters while she and I were...discussing something. She seemed to be a little uneasy about him being there."

"I see," Picard sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Did she call him by name?"

Barclay nodded. "Yes. She called him Trelane."

Picard's brow furrowed at the mention of his name. "Well, thank you for informing me, Lieutenant. I shall see to this matter, post-haste."

Barclay nodded, somewhat relieved.

After a few seconds, Picard looked at him. "You are free to leave now."

"Oh. Right," he replied, turning a slight shade of crimson before leaving. _Now_ what? Should he return to his quarters? Should he retreat to the holodeck and vent his frustrations?

"Trelane! Get in here immediately!" came Picard's angry voice from inside the ready room.

Barclay's first instinct told him to run, but as he heard Trelane's voice as he _appeared_ inside the room, Barclay quietly decided to listen in. As much as eavesdropping was wrong, if Trelane was planning on hurting Armanya, he needed to know. Despite what she said, he still was deeply in love with her. And if her life was in danger, he was going to do whatever he could to-well, at least _warn_ her.

* * *

"Ah, Captain! I _knew_ once you heard about my arrival that you wouldn't be able to contain your enthusiasm!" Trelane smirked, loving every second of seeing each line and crease on the Captain's face.

"Trelane, I want you off my ship, effective immediately. You are not welcome here," Picard ordered.

"Oh, pish-posh! You treat me this way even _after_ I save one of your dear crewmember's lives? Now I would believe that to be downright _rude_ , even for _you_."

Picard stood up angrily. "While it may be true that you indeed, saved Lieutenant Collins' life, you were the reason she _needed_ to be _saved_ in the _first_ place! You manipulated her and forced her to go back to her childhood on Earth, _traumatizing_ her to the point of near _death_! Now, again; I want you off my ship or I shall be forced to contact Q and have _him_ remove you."

Trelane had to push back an almost giddy giggle as he heard the last part. "Well, I am afraid you cannot do that. Q is...unreachable at the moment. Any attempts to contact him would be moot. My apologies for-how do you humans say-shooting you down like Old Yeller." Trelane _did_ giggle at that.

"Trelane, I am ordering you to leave my ship-and my crew-alone. We are not going to be playthings for your amusement. You have caused enough trouble for a _number_ of lifetimes."

Trelane sighed. The captain could be _such_ a wet blanket. "Fine. I will leave- _for now_. But my reunion with my dear Armanya isn't finished. I shall be back to see her and you can't _stop_ me. And, with my departure, there is just one last thing I need to do."

With that, Trelane disappeared, but not before a loud thump and intense groan was heard outside Picard's office.

* * *

"Reg!" Armanya cried out, running across from Picard's ready room just as the Captain himself exited. "Are you okay?"

Barclay was lying on the floor, holding his head as he tried to sit up. "I don't know what happened...one minute, I was-"

" _I'll_ tell you what happened; it was Tr-" Picard began.

"You just tripped and fell," Armanya interrupted, helping him to sit straight.

"Lieutenant _Collins_ ," Picard responded, shock and anger in his voice.

"But that's what _happened_ , Captain," she repeated, looking at him apologetically.

"Mr. Barclay, take yourself into sick bay to make sure you have not suffered a concussion. Lieutenant Collins, if I may have a word with you privately?"

Barclay stood up with Armanya's assistance and slowly walked off, still clutching his head as she and Picard entered his ready room. Armanya swallowed, knowing this would not be a pleasant conversation.

"I'm sorry I lied, but I knew that Trelane-" she began, but Picard cut her off.

"Armanya, I _do_ not approve of Trelane being onboard the Enterprise at any time. If he returns, you are to do whatever is neccessary to remove him from the confines of this ship. Do I make myself clear?"

Armanya nodded. "Yes, sir."

"No members of the Q Continuum are welcome here. They are troublemakers and incessant pests. I can handle Q himself, but I expect _you_ to handle Trelane."

Armanya felt her heart sink down into her toes. "Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Make it so," Picard replied before motioning she was free to leave.

Armanya left, but leaned against the wall, trying to control her breathing. She wanted to cry or wake up and find this was all just a nightmare, but it was real. Trelane was back and up to something. And whether Armanya wanted it or not, she was right in the thick of it. _That is why no one can know the truth,_ she thought miserably. _If the Captain or anyone else knew, I'd be thrown off the ship so fast my head would spin. Then I'd be right back where I was before I came here: alone, miserable and most likely, dead._


	6. Cards On the Table

"I thought I might find you here."

Thralen's heart ached as she stood in her quarters, her back turned and shoulders hunched. He took a step toward her, but she turned around and gave a small smile.

"You always seem to know when I need a friend," she replied, holding a small stuffed Fuzzy Man doll, which strangely resembled Thralen, himself.

"I heard about what happened. He _is_ gone, isn't he?"

Armanya set the stuffed doll from her childhood down and nodded. "For now. But he said he would be back."

Thralen placed his blue hands on her shoulders. "Well, don't worry; as long as _I'm_ around, he won't lay one finger on you. I can guarantee you that."

"But it's not _me_ that I worry for," she replied, biting her lip. "It's mostly you and Data. He nearly killed Data and he had you _frozen_ the entire time he took me back to Earth! Why is it that he always goes after the people I care about?"

"Because he's a jealous and obnoxious twit. _All_ members of the Q are," he replied simply.

Armanya winced and pulled away slightly. "Surely not _all_ of them, right?"

Thralen instantly opened his mouth to reply but carefully chose his next words. "Well, I'm sure there are a _couple_ of them who are decent, but Trelane and Q are not among them."

"Well, all I know is that he will be back and there is no telling _what_ he could have up his proverbial sleeve," she stated as she began pacing back and forth. "I am just tired of playing cat and mouse with him. If he _truly_ cared about me, he'd leave everyone alone."

"Well, just know that you are not alone. You have many people aboard this ship who care about you deeply. We will do whatever we can to help rid you of this...pest."

Armanya hugged Thralen tightly. "Thanks, Fuzzy Man."

Thralen's antennae twitched as he returned the embrace. "Anytime, dear girl. Anytime."

* * *

Armanya felt better after talking to Thralen. He was definitely her childhood security blanket come to life. She giggled as she recalled that only she was allowed to call him Fuzzy Man and when Wesley Crusher did, Thralen threatened to harm him in ways he could only imagine.

"Ah, it's good to hear you laugh, my dear."

As soon as she exited her quarters, she nearly plowed into him and her smile instantly disappeared. "You can't be _in_ here! Captain's orders!" she hissed.

Trelane sighed. "Fine. Then you and I shall go outside." With that, Trelane snapped his fingers and the two of them were standing on the outer hull of the _Enterprise_.

Armanya stumbled nervously. "Yeah, because _this_ is _much_ safer!" she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, calm down. We are perfectly fine. I guarantee you that you will not fall. Now, then; we have important things to discuss."

"No. I have nothing to discuss with you. You are to leave Data, Thralen and Geordi alone. You are not to control the ship or take me on another _joyride_!"

Trelane scoffed. "I have no intentions of doing any of that which you mentioned. The robot, Mr. Blue Boy nor the Vision Impaired one will be touched. And taking over the ship is getting rather boring. As for you, I could never put you through anything of that nature ever again. You know that."

"Then what on Earth could you _possibly_ want?"

"I want to get to know this Reject you have grown so fond of. I am aware he is extremely fond of _you_ ," Trelane teased, making mock kissy-faces.

"No! There is absolutely no way in Hell I am letting you harm Barclay or "get to know him", as you claim to state. He is off limits," Armanya seethed.

"I was afraid you'd react this way," Trelane sighed in disappointment. "I guess in that case, I should alert the Captain about what _really_ took place the night I saved your life several months ago."

Armanya's face turned ashen and her eyes grew wide in horror. "You _wouldn't_!"

"Oh, but I would. Either you tell your not-so-secret admirer to meet me in Holodeck Three in two hours or I go straight to your feeble leader and tell him your little secret."

Armanya wanted nothing more than to wipe the satisfied smirk off his face. How _dare_ he blackmail her! "What are you planning to do in Holodeck Three, Trelane?"

Trelane put his hands up in protest. "I simply want to play a game or two with him. He seems to be very familiar and comfortable in fantasy worlds and so that is what I shall provide."

"Except when _you_ play, the rules are of your own and can change without notice."

"If this Reject is any kind of trooper, he'll be able to keep up with me just fine. You shouldn't worry. If he comes, your secret is safe. If not, I come clean about everything that happened that night. The cards are on the table, my dear. Choose wisely," Trelane giggled. "But if you choose the latter, just know that there will always be a home for you with me on Gothos. You have one hour and fifty-four minutes to make your decision. No pressure!"

Suddenly, Armanya found herself back inside her quarters, alone. Would Trelane really spill her secret? _Well of course he would; he has nothing to lose. He'll look like a prince and you will come out with egg on your face and no home,_ her brain screamed. _As much as you care about Barclay, you have to do what is best for_ you _! If you don't do it, you'll be dead for sure!_

"What should I _do_?" she wailed aloud, placing her head in her hands and sobbing. Ten minutes ago, she felt happy and loved. But now, she felt completely and utterly alone. And given that she hadn't felt that way in well over a year, the feeling stung worse than she could have ever imagined.


	7. Let the Games Begin

**SIDE NOTE: I have to admit that at this point in the story, I am totally and completely making this up as I go along. The beginning and the ending have been etched in stone for weeks now, but this darned middle gets me every time...which means this could get VERY interesting. Mwahaha.**

* * *

Barclay sat at a corner table in the very back of Ten-Forward, drinking his warm milk and watching the staff bustle behind the counter. He had tried to sleep, but his mind had other plans. Not to mention his head still ached a little from his unexpected fall.

Suddenly, the doors opened and the person he both longed and dreaded to see walked in quickly, taking a seat at the bar. He opened his mouth to call her over, but his vocal cords refused to allow her name to be audibly heard. Perhaps he should just continue to drink his milk and read as if he never saw her. As if he never saw her gorgeous wavy hair, her hypnotic eyes, her pink lips and soft light skin...

 _Good God, Reg! Have you completely lost your_ mind _? After what she said to you? How she broke your heart and stomped all over it?_

Hands now visibly shaking, he took a drink of his milk and forced himself to look down. _But she is still so incredibly beautiful, and that jerk Trelane just completely ruined everything! I know he's manipulating her someway, somehow._

He looked up at her again and before he knew what had happened, his vocal cords decided to work. "Armanya!" he called out to her hopefully.

She turned slowly, her mouth in a perfect 'o' shape as she held a small glass in her hand. He noticed she appeared to be shaking as well, but why?

 _Please don't come over, please don't-oh Thank God she's walking over here,_ his mind flip-flopped as she made her way over.

"Uh, hi, Reg. I was actually planning to come and talk to you later. So...I guess it's good I ran into you here," she began nervously before taking a seat.

"Oh, you were? Okay, well, what-what's on your mind?" he tried to sound casual, but the sweat forming on his brow was screaming epic fail.

"Well, I know I don't deserve to ask, but I sort of-actually _really_ -need a huge favor from you."

Barclay put his book over to the side and finished his milk. "You need a favor from _me_?"

"Uh-huh. It's important. Really important," she nodded before downing the entire glass of whiskey she had in one big gulp.

 _Wow. This must be one hell of a favor if she's throwing back alcohol like that,_ Barclay's mind observed. "I see. What do you need me to do?"

Armanya inhaled and exhaled slowly and Barclay could smell the alcohol on her breath. She had definitely swallowed more than one glass. "I need you to go to Holodeck Three in an hour. You and...Trelane."

"Trelane! Armanya, what is really going on? I know you don't really want the two of us to bond over programs and fictional stories," Barclay told her, his hand dangerously close to hers. "You can tell me."

"Okay, okay. Trelane wants to meet you in one hour at Holodeck Three. He wants to invite you to play a game. I know it sounds twisted but you _have_ to go! You must be careful and not trust him for a second, but I really need you to do this! If you don't, then...then...Trelane-"

"Trelane threatened to hurt you if I don't comply?" Barclay interrupted.

Armanya looked down and nodded solemnly. "You have no idea. I'm really scared, Reg. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I do. I'll meet him. I'll go if it means he'll leave you alone."

"You-you _will_?" she asked, a single tear running down her cheek. "But after what I said to you earlier, I don't deserve-"

Barclay held up a hand to cut her off and handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. "That-that doesn't matter. If he is threatening to hurt you, I will do whatever I have to do." As he said those words, he was shocked to sound much braver than he felt. _I guess love will do that,_ he thought.

Dabbing at her eyes, she thanked him. "Just promise me you'll be careful. Trelane is a member of the Q. You have to try to outwit him if at all possible. He's basically just a big, powerful child who takes winning very seriously."

He smiled at her but was very disappointed if that was her version of a pep talk. If anything, he felt worse. Much worse. "I-I'll be okay. You just take care of yourself here." He stood up and motioned for her to keep the handkerchief. "I guess I'll go and get ready to meet Trelane."

As he walked away from her, his pulse began to race and sweat poured down his back. _You just had to go and call out her name, didn't you?_ one of the voices in his head asked him bitterly.

 _But she_ needs _me. I can't let that jerk hurt her. I_ have _to do this to prove my love to_ her _and to prove it to_ myself _, too,_ he argued. He just wish he felt more confident and less like a man walking right into his virtual Waterloo.

* * *

Trelane smiled wickedly as he watched a very nervous Lieutenant Reginald Barclay walk towards him and the holodeck. "Well, well, well, Reject. I was beginning to think you weren't going to show. Good to see Armanya can still be extraordinarily persuasive."

"You j-just leave Armanya alone. You give me your word right here and right now," Barclay replied, stone-faced.

"You have my word, dear fellow. I give you my solumn vow that I will leave Armanya alone _if_ you succeed to beat me. However, I must admit, no one has been successful as of yet."

Barclay swallowed hard and tugged at his uniform. "Can we just do this?"

Trelane chuckled. "I thought you would never ask." As the holodeck doors opened, he cleared his throat dramatically. "Begin Program Squire of Gothos."

Within seconds, a dirt road leading to a medieval-era castle was in view. "Welcome first to my humble abode. We will need supplies, weapons and things of that sort. But first thing is first. You simply _must_ come inside so that we shall drink toast and break bread. It's the only _civilized_ way we can begin," Trelane explained.

Barclay nodded and followed him inside. As he entered the drawing room, he realized that Trelane's fashion sense wasn't the only thing out of date. The harpsichord, the giant globe and even the chandeliers and curtains were centuries old. "This is where you _live_?" Barclay asked, nonchalantly sliding his finger over the fireplace mantle, which had collected no dust whatsoever.

"Mi casa es su casa," Trelane smiled proudly. "I call it Trelane Manor. Has a certain ring to it, doesn't it? Come! Into the dining room. We must eat and drink post-haste! We have no time to waste before the game begins!"

Trelane led the way into the dining area with an incredibly long dining table. It was made to seat at least thirty people and prepared food covered almost every square inch. "I always am prepared for last minute parties. Now, do you prefer red wine or white?"

"Um, I don't drink either. Do you have any ginger ale or cider?"

Trelane looked offended for a second but regained his composure. "Sparkling cider to the left, goblets to the right." Humming to himself, he poured some for both himself and Barclay. "Now for the bread. Some lovely pumpernickel. You _do_ like pumpernickel bread, don't you?"

"That's fine," Barclay responded as Trelane broke the bread and placed half onto his plate across from him.

"A toast," Trelane began, raising his glass in the air. "A toast to the unbelievable fun that is yet to come. And a toast to Armanya. May she live as long as she wants, but never want as long as she lives."

Barclay raised his glass and clinked it with Trelane's. "What exactly did you mean by that last part? You swore to me that she wouldn't be hurt."

"And I have every intention of keeping said promise. But she will not want as long as she lives once she takes up residence here with me on Gothos. For you see, if you lose-and my guess is you _will_ lose-she will belong to me. She shall leave that wretched _Enterprise_ wreck and join me here forever." As Trelane watched the color drain from Barclay's face, he gave him a look of mock guilt. "Oh, dear. Did I not mention that before? Dreadfully sorry, dear Reject. But all is fair in love and war. Or so they say, but I can't honestly admit that I follow clichés."

As Trelane watched Barclay's every move and twitch, he began to laugh. This was going to be like taking candy from a paranoid baby. And he had a huge sweet tooth.


	8. Details and Dragons

"What have I done? What have I done?"

Geordi heard someone mutter the phrase over and over from down the hallway, but he wasn't sure of who the voice belonged to.

"If my vocal recognition programming is correct, that is Armanya," Data stated, cocking his head slightly to the right. "Her voice pattern sounds very strained and uneven."

"Let's go see what's the matter, but I already have a feeling it has to do with Trelane's visit earlier."

Data nodded and they walked down the hallway until they reached the transporter room. They found her alone, sitting on the edge of one of the platforms, knees tucked to her chest, rocking back and forth. "Armanya, I detected stressed patterns in your speech. Is everything alright?"

Armanya looked up at them, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Geordi immediately kneeled by her side. "Armanya, what's wrong? Talk to us."

"I'm a horrible, selfish person, that's what's wrong. I did a terrible thing and it's all because of Trelane!" she cried out.

Geordi looked up at Data. "I knew he had to be behind this."

Data took a seat on another platform beside her. "Armanya, as long as I have known you, you have never appeared selfish or horrible. If Trelane has done something to make you feel these emotions, perhaps we should contact the captain."

With that, Armanya quickly stood up. "No! Captain Picard can never find out the truth. That's just it. I had no _choice_! I _had_ to tell Reg that he needed to go with Trelane. If I didn't, then-then-"

"Wait. You had to tell Reg to go with Trelane _where_? Armanya, what is Trelane up to?" Geordi asked, standing as well.

"He-he told me that he wanted Reg to go to the holodeck. He wanted to play a game with him, since he likes to hide there so much. But I know what that means, which translates that I possibly just sent him on a _suicide_ mission! I never thought he would agree to do it so quickly...why did he have to be brave and noble _now_?" she explained, her voice to a whisper as she said the last part.

Data stood and cocked his head, as if processing the information. "Why _did_ Lieutenant Barclay agree to be sent on this 'suicide mission', as it were?"

"Because I told him Trelane would hurt me if he didn't. Which isn't a lie; he _would_ hurt me. He just can't _physically_ hurt me."

Geordi scratched his head. "So you told Reg that he needed to do this because Trelane could hurt you. But now you are saying Trelane _couldn't_ hurt you? I don't get it."

Armanya looked down at the floor sadly. "Because he blackmailed me. Trelane told me if Reg didn't go, he would tell Captain Picard about...what happened the night Trelane saved my life. The night he brought me back from Earth."

Data looked at her. "I must ask; what _did_ take place that night? I vividly recall Trelane and Q entering your quarters, where you lay unresponsive. After six minutes and fifty-three seconds, the two of them emerged and you were conscious again."

Armayna looked away and Geordi knew she wanted to tell but was afraid to. "Armanya, it's alright. You can tell us. We're not here to judge. Trelane took you to Earth to see everything you went through during your life there, he then brought you back, barely alive and then suddenly, you were fine. What did he do?"

"O-okay. I'll tell you. But you _cannot_ tell the captain. He would throw me off the _Enterprise_ so fast, my head would spin."

Geordi chuckled lightly. "The captain would never throw you off board, Armanya. You are part of the team and you have earned your keep. As well as the admiration and respect of the crew."

"Even if I was part Q?" Armanya quipped.

"Wait; _what_?" Geordi asked, blown away by her questioned response. "Part Q?"

"I do not understand," Data added. "To say that you are 'part Q' would imply that-"

"I am part Q. Trelane felt terrible about what he had done. It was the most human Q himself had ever seen him. While I was in a comatose state, I could tell what was going on. Q said he could just delete that portion of my memory so I would have no recollection of going back with Trelane. But Trelane wasn't happy with that. He knew that he was the reason I ended up nearly dying in the explosion at my old house. He told Q he had to make sure that there would never be a way that he could physically cause me pain. Q played dumb, but Trelane figured out that if he made me part Q, he nor anyone else from the Continuum could harm me. So he kissed me and somehow, that made me part Q. Like a sixteenth or an eighth or something. I don't know about the math, but all I know is Captain Picard said no one who is Q would be welcome on the ship. He hates them. Ergo, he will hate me," she clarified, beginning to cry again as she paced the room.

Geordi and Data exchanged a look and Geordi cleared his throat nervously. "So, Trelane gave you a part of himself, as bizarre as that sounds. He did it to save you. But how _did_ it save you?"

"I can't explain it but it just took the pain away. I no longer was injured nor traumatized by what happened. I remember it, but that's about it. I just know that if the captain knew, he would not allow me to stay on board. If he did, he would be a hypocrite. And we know he is not that. If I have to leave the _Enterprise_ , I will have to go back to Earth or somewhere else alone again. And there is no way in Hell I am staying with Trelane on Gothos. So because Trelane blackmailed me, I had to tell Reg to do what Trelane demanded."

"Armanya, I am quite certain that the captain would not ask or command that you leave the _Enterprise_. Just because you are partially Q does not make you like them. You are still the same human, just possibly with Q-like abilities and stamina," Data explained.

"I can't take that chance. You two know my secret but Captain Picard can never know," she said before stopping suddenly. "However, I know what I have to do. No matter what, I cannot allow Reg to be sacrificed because of my secret. I can't let him be hurt or die for me. I have to stop Trelane!"

Geordi held up his finger as she ran rowards the door. "Wait; how are you going to-" he started but she was already gone.

"-stop him?" he finished softly, grimacing at Data. "This could end badly."

"Indeed it could. I am wondering, however, if now that Armanya is part Q, will she in turn develop even more abilities than she already possesses?"

Geordi shrugged. "It's possible, but I don't even think _she_ knows what they are. Which could either make her a better person or a danger to herself and others. But I know Captain Picard wouldn't give her the boot if he knew. Regardless of how he feels about the Q, they saved her life. We almost lost her and Trelane of all people ended up being her savior."

"I agree. Which is why I feel we should alert the captain, in case Armanya and Barclay may need saving again. Armanya may express feelings of anger and betrayal, but it _is_ for the sake of her well-being."

Geordi let out a deep breath. "Let's go. I hate betraying her, but if she goes in there to rescue Reg blindly, there is no telling _what_ could happen."

* * *

Barclay could barely catch his breath. Amazingly enough, he was doing fairly well. Trelane had sent him into a Camelot-style castle in which he had to swordfight multiple suits of armor that appeared out of nowhere and seemed to gang up on him numerous times. He could only credit his program in which he fenced with Riker, Picard, Geordi and Data for much needed practice. But Armanya was right; Barclay had no idea what Trelane was capable of or could throw his way next. All he knew at that moment was that Trelane was _not_ happy; and that scared him worse than any one of those humanless knights.

"You fought and killed them _all_?" Trelane asked, surprised and somewhat agitated. "But there were at _least_ thirty-seven!"

"Yeah. Every last one," he panted, trying not to smirk. "Does this mean I won?"

Trelane scoffed. "Ha! That was just a _warm-up_. Let's see how you do with _this_!"

Barclay looked at him, waiting in the East Tower when the floor beneath them began to shake. He tried to steady himself, but fell to his knees as the entire castle rumbled violently. "What's happening? What are you doing, Trelane?" he cried out.

"Oh, just wanted to inform you that you have officially been chosen to a much bigger and _deadlier_ task: let's see how you are at slaying a _dragon_!" Trelane laughed wickedly.

Barclay dared himself to look behind him at part of the wall that had fallen. What appeared in the wall's place was one massively huge black eye. An eye that belonged to a dragon so giant, there was no possible way he and his tiny sword could even cause such a beast to wince. "Trelane, you don't really expect me to-"

"What's the matter, Reject? Are you afraid of an overgrown lizard who breathes fire so fierce that it could burn an entire planet within seconds?"

Barclay glared at him, standing up. "If _you're_ so brave, then _you_ fight it!"

"Been there, done that," Trelane replied, looking bored. "You'd better start thinking of a plan to slay him rather quickly. He hasn't yet eaten today."

 _It's just a game, it's just a program,_ Barclay mentally repeated as he again faced the monstrosity. Looking at his sword, he took a few calming breaths and did the only thing he knew to do: he jabbed his sword right into the dragon's eye.

Suddenly, the dragon emitted a roar so thunderous, it knocked Barclay off his feet again before the dragon recoiled from the wound and faced him, giant nostrils flaring.

"Oh, now you've really gone and done it, stupid," Trelane muttered. "I said to _slay_ him, not _blind_ him!"

" _Trelane_!" Barclay hissed as the castle began to fall apart, little by little. "If you won't help me, then at least tell Armanya that-that-"

Barclay was unable to finish the last words, however, as the floor beneath him collapsed, sending him falling; possibly to his death.


	9. Slay Ride

Walking briskly but not running for fear of causing attention, Armanya headed towards the holodeck area.

"You going to rescue Broccoli again?" Wesley Crusher smirked as he saw her walk past.

"Excuse me?" She stopped abruptly. How did _he_ know?

"I don't know why he bothers. If he prefers to be in his imaginary world instead of right here in reality, I say let him be. It's not like he'd be missed much."

"Listen here, you little troll," Armanya seethed, her face inches from his. "His name is Reginald _Barclay_ and he is just as important to this team as you and I!"

Wesley backed away and put his hands up in protest. "Okay, okay!"

Armanya opened her mouth to say something else, but Wesley's badge-com alerted him that he was needed at the bridge.

"Ooh, he makes me so mad!" she growled, continuing her fast paced walk.

When she reached Holodeck Three, she tapped her own badge-com. "Computer, show all recent programs running in holodeck area."

"Showing all recent programs," the computer repeated as a list appeared on-screen outside the holodecks.

"A-ha!" she cried out when she saw Trelane's program and instantly entered Holodeck Three. "Run program Squire of Gothos."

"You do not have access to run this program," the computer informed her.

Brows furrowed, she silently cursed Trelane for knowing someone might try to access the program. Saying a quick prayer for not knowing what her limited Q abilities were capable of, she mentally focused on Trelane's voice. "Computer; run program Squire of Gothos," she repeated, Trelane's 'voice' coming out of her mouth.

"Running current program Squire of Gothos," the computer responded and instantly, she saw that she was on the path leading to Trelane Manor.

"Surely they aren't just inside discussing the weather and politics," she whispered, running to the door, thankful Trelane showed her how to gain access inside. "Trelane? Reg?" she called once in the drawing room, but the place was empty. Turning and running into the dining area, she saw two partially eaten bread loaves and two dirty goblets. They _had_ been here, but where on Earth could they have gone from _there_?

She was just about to leave when she saw that two swords were missing from their place on his wall, where he proudly displayed several. _Well, from what Deanna informed me, Reg liked fencing. Maybe he's in his element...for now,_ she thought, swallowing hard. _Now where did they possibly run off to after leaving his house?_

Suddenly, Armanya heard a low and menacing roar from off in the distance and she swallowed hard again. That certainly wasn't anyone's stomach growling. When she heard it again, she took off down one of the paths where it sounded like it was originating from. "Trelane, you had better hope Reg is alive and okay. Because if he isn't, I will find a way to kill you myself, Q or no Q."

* * *

How Barclay managed to land on his feet, he would never know. He wasn't sure how far he had fallen but he was now in a room that looked to serve as a library and museum of sorts. Books were stacked on shelves from the floor to the ceiling and various objects from around the world were held on display in glass cases. Most of the items and glass cases littered the floor, as did the books from the dragon-made earthquake. Looking around frantically, he knew he needed something large or destructive to kill the fire-breathing behemoth. "Come on, come on; there has to be _something_!" he cried, running over to an armoire between the bookshelves. As he opened it, instead of finding clothes or more valuables stashed inside, he found a bow and arrow, complete with bow sling, a pistol and a tranquilizer gun. "Surely one of these will work. They _have_ to!"

Grabbing them, he ran out of the castle, unbeknownst to the dragon, who had his back turned to him.

"You really think those miniscule items of weaponry will work?" Trelane laughed as he appeared beside him. "He could squash you like a fly in a second. Which would be interesting, but slightly messy."

Barclay turned to him. "Yes, you'd rather enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

"You're so serious, Reject. Lighten up, would you? I'll tell you what; why don't I spice up the game ever-so-slightly?"

Barclay turned to look at him, ready to ask what he had in store, but Trelane waved his hand and instantly, Barclay heard a female scream.

"Damsels in distress always make for exciting adventures, don't they?" Trelane guffawed. He then put his index fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. The dragon turned to see Trelane and Barclay, nostrils flaring.

Barclay looked up to see a small female entrapped in the dragon's clawed hand. _That's not...no, it_ can't _be...Armanya?_ he thought, panic rising in his throat.

"No, you nincompoop; it's not your fair maiden," Trelane snorted, reading Barclay's thoughts. "But I wouldn't stand and gawk if I were you, unless you _want_ this poor thing to die."

The woman screamed again and the dragon glanced at her before looking back to Barclay.

"Okay, Reg; you can do this," he said aloud, grabbing his pistol and firing it. The pistol shot the dragon in the foot but instead of harming the dragon, the bullet simply bounced off his scales as if he were bulletproof. "You've _got_ to be _kidding_ me!"

Flaring his nostrils again, he took a large step towards Barclay. The woman screamed once more, but the dragon had now found a _new_ playmate.

Reaching for the tranquilizer gun, he aimed it at the dragon's gut and pushed the trigger, but the gun jammed and nothing happened. _Damn,_ Barclay mentally cursed, knowing the bow and arrow was his last pathetic chance. Reaching at the sling, he fumbled for an arrow, but felt something fall out of the bag and to the ground. Looking next to him, he realized Trelane had disappeared. _Jerk._ As he glanced at the ground, he saw a small bottle had fallen out. Picking it up quickly as the dragon continued to head in his direction, he read the label: "Instant Shrinking Powder."

Seconds later, the dragon lowered his face down, his fire-breathing nostrils inches away from Barclay's face. He could feel the searing heat as he shakily opened the bottle and tossed the contents on his snout. Closing his eyes, he mentally repeated for this ridiculous potion to work, lest he be charred for Trelane's pleasure.

"What?! _Noooo!_ " Trelane's voice screamed out of nowhere, causing Barclay to open his eyes. When he did, the dragon had been reduced to the size of his shoe and the stunned yet confused woman was lying on the ground beside the miniaturized dragon.

"It worked?" Barclay asked aloud, helping the woman to her feet. She did not speak, but she bowed to him graciously before disappearing, only to be replaced by a red-faced Trelane.

"No! That wasn't supposed to _happen_! It's not _fair_!" Trelane whined childishly, stomping his foot down on the ground. "You cheated!"

Barclay bristled, shaking all over. "I did not! It was in the sling bag, Trelane! This is _your_ stupid game, anyway!"

"Ooh, that does it! I'll fix you; I'll fix you for _good_!" Trelane shouted before grabbing Barclay by the throat.

"Trelane, what are you _doing_?" Barclay gagged, realizing that they were no longer near a castle or a dragon, but on the edge of a cliff at night. Daring himself to glance down, he saw that Trelane was holding him over the cliff. "Trelane!"

"I've had enough of you, Reject. My pet alligators are hungry and need to be fed. This is a game, but once you fall into the waters below, the game will end and you will be pet food for real! Armanya belongs with me and no one else. You cheated and didn't follow the rules, so your punishment is death. Any last words, Reject?" he sneered.

"Armanya," he croaked.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Trelane asked.

"Trelane, what are you _doing_?" came a shocked female voice from behind.

Barclay struggled while trying to remain conscious, but Trelane turned, startled by her voice and sudden presence. In doing so, his hand accidentally slipped from Barclay's throat and Armanya screamed as Barclay began to fall towards his death.


	10. Til Death Do Us Part

Trelane's heart nearly jumped out of his throat as he saw Armanya. "How-how did you-?"

He never finished his sentence before she scrambled to the cliff's edge, screaming for Barclay.

"He's going to die, Armanya. The program ends at the cliff. If you try to end the program now, he will still die and you and I will be trapped inside my complex simulation," Trelane explained softly.

"But you aren't allowed to hurt me! If I get to him, you can't hurt him, either!" Armanya cried before jumping off the cliff, herself.

"Are you _mad_? He's not worth it! He cheated!" Trelane yelled, feeling panic rising in his chest. She was really going to use her power of the Q to _save_ him? "I'm not even one hundred percent sure I was right! I can't hurt you purposefully, but I don't know about accidentally!" his voice echoed through the night sky.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take! He's the _true_ hero! And you need to leave! Now!"

Trelane wondered what she meant, but he soon understood as he heard his own voice resounding from Armanya as she yelled, "Computer! Terminate program Squire of Gothos!"

"Terminating program," the computer repeated.

"Noooooooo!" Trelane screamed before he disappeared with the rest of the hologram's simulation.

* * *

Barclay could have sworn he heard Armanya and Trelane arguing, but perhaps it was just his own fear causing him to go mad before he plunged to his death thousands of feet below.

"Barclay!"

 _I can't believe that woman is going to be the last thing I hear before I die. If only I didn't love her so much, I-_

"Barclay!"

 _Stop it, Reg! Stop allowing your mind to replay her voice over and over! You lost her to that bastard Trelane because you can't win, no matter what!_

Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap around him and smelled a scent he recognized instantly. Armanya! Was it real? Did she fall over the cliff with him? Were they going to die together? _Oh my God! She's going to die!_ "Armanya, what are you-?" he finally choked out.

"I'm sorry I got you in this mess! Trelane can't kill me and so I'm not going to let him kill you, too! I trapped him in his own program!" she told him, hugging him tightly. "I won't let you go. I should have _never_ let you go."

Barclay opened his mouth to ask what exactly she meant by that, when he hit something hard and flat. "Oof!" he cried, daring his eyes to open. Armanya was still holding him tightly, but they were lying on the floor in Holodeck Three. _What just happened? Did she just really save your life? How the hell did she_ do _that?_

 _"She didn't bring you back to the holodeck, infidel._ I _did. If I didn't intervene, she would have accidentally let you go when you hit the waters and Trelane's alligators would have eaten you alive. She may be a portion of Q, but the title of Q only belongs to me,"_ a stranger's voice responded in his mind. _"You humans repulse and bother me, but the fact that Armanya was finally smart enough to trap Trelane in his own program aided in my decision to save you, as well. Consider yourself lucky, as only you wretched humans would."_

 _Thanks,_ Barclay thought in response before he blacked out.

* * *

Picard ran towards the holodeck as soon as they heard a loud noise that sounded similar to a sonic boom. The computer immediately alerted him that it came from the holodeck area and he was already on his way there.

"You did say Holodeck Three, correct?" he asked Data.

"That is correct, Captain."

Quickly, Picard opened the doors, but saw that the room was void of anything out of the ordinary. Until he looked down. On the floor were Armanya and Barclay, lying unconscious and holding each other as if their lives depended on it.

"They are alive, sir and their vitals appear to be functioning normally," Data observed as he helped Picard untangle them and carry them out.

Armanya was the first one to stir in Picard's arms and a few seconds later, she was fully aware and looking for Barclay. "Where is-?"

"He's just fine. Data has him. Are you alright?"

She nodded and he carefully let her stand on her own.

"Data? You're not-," came Barclay's mumbled words as Data also helped him to his feet.

"Data, take Mr. Barclay back to his quarters so that he may rest. I need to speak with Ms. Collins privately," Picard told him.

"Yes, Captain." Data responded as he allowed Barclay to use him as support before they walked back to the quarters.

"You wanted to talk to me, sir?" she squeaked nervously.

"Yes. I am not sure what happened inside that holodeck, but I know it must have been something big, considering Trelane was involved. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"I-I trapped him. I managed to terminate the program. It's complicated, because Trelane made half of the program a simulation but other parts real. I trapped him inside the simulation. I don't know how or when he will manage to get out."

"Very good, Ms. Collins. However, I _do_ need to speak to you about a different matter. What made you possibly think that you were unable to come to me to inform me that Trelane made you...part Q?"

Picard waited for her answer, but she looked as if she might faint, instead. "Do you need to sit down?" he asked.

Armanya shook her head. "How did you-?"

"I have known for quite some time. Q came to me a few months after Trelane rescued you from the hell he caused and told me what happened. The part that troubles me is that not only were you unwilling to speak with me about it, but you were willing to put Mr. Barclay's life in _danger_ to hide it. Did you really think that I would order you to leave the _Enterprise_ because of this fact?"

"Yes. Yes, I did," she replied nervously. "You dislike the Q immensely and have made no qualms about them not being welcome. I understand, but now that I am part Q, I assumed you would extend that dislike to me, as well."

"Well, then I have failed in my duties as Captain. Ms. Collins-Armanya-the Q are an arrogant, omnipotent, abhorrent race of troublemakers who seem to make it their personal job to cause turmoil for everyone aboard my ship. You, however, have not changed since that night in which Trelane gave to you a part of himself. You are feisty and stubborn, yes, but you genuinely care about the people here and in turn, we care about you, as well. As long as I am captain, you will always have a home right here. Is that clear?"

Armanya smiled through tears in her eyes. "Yes. Thank you. And I'm sorry I kept it from you. Trelane played on my fears about being Q. He manipulated me, even though he knew that you were already aware. I can honestly say I don't regret trapping him inside his wretched program."

Picard laughed. "I feel the same way. Now, let's get you back to your quarters. You need some sleep. Tomorrow, I need both you and Mr. Barclay to give me a full report on exactly what happened inside that holodeck."

"Yes, sir," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

As Picard helped her back towards her room, he remembered the first few days after Armanya came aboard the _Enterprise._ Geordi and Data immediately came to her aid, but he hesitated and even felt unsure she belonged here. He also recalled how Barclay was a constant thorn in Geordi's side when he first arrived, but how with time, both Barclay _and_ Armanya found their way, earning the respect of much of the crew and Picard, himself. Smiling, he realized that perhaps Armanya and Barclay were kindred spirits of sorts and that fate had stepped in to make them friends; not just because of a favor from Geordi. While those two still had a lot to learn, he was glad they at least were going to have each other to lean on for a long, long time.

 **END NOTE: No, this isn't the end. One more awesome chapter to go. Our heroes need to have the last word, don't they? Well of** ** _course_** **they do; don't be ridiculous!**


	11. The Real Thing

"So, Geordi told me that your aunt raised you but kept you prisoner in your own home, you found solace in music but your manager robbed you of everything you owned, you were married to a verbally abusive husband who was unfaithful, you were poisoned in a chemical accident and you spent the last few months on Earth running from the Mob," Barclay ticked off each occurrence with his fingers. "Trelane made you go through all of that again?"

'Armanya' nodded. "He did. He was curious to see just how horrible my life had been. He thought I had made all of it up. Unfortunately, he saw things he wished he hadn't seen. In his twisted way, Trelane _does_ care for me. He _tried_ to help me when we went back. He found my Fuzzy Man doll for me; the same one I lost when Aunt Ginny took him away. So I guess I owe him for that. But thankfully, I found my real home here; with all of you."

Suddenly, Barclay looked to his left, where a small orchestra sat patiently. "Maestro, if you please."

Soft classical music began to play and Barclay led her in a graceful waltz among the stars in the night sky. He looked at 'Armanya', wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that frilled at the skirt elegantly. Her hair was tied in a bun with a matching yellow ribbon, a few strands of loose curls cascading down both sides of her face. The two of them danced silently for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the orchestra, his heart beating in time with hers and-

"A-hem. Mind if I cut in?"

'Armanya' turned to see who had tapped her on the shoulder and smiled. "Oh! Yes! Be my guest," she offered.

Barclay's palms began to sweat as he stared into the face of who had interrupted his holofantasy. "Ar-Armanya; what are you-?"

"End program," Armanya replied curtly before grabbing his hand and pulling him through the doorway.

"Armanya, I'm so sorry; it's just that I-well, I-" he stuttered, allowing himself to be pulled along towards his quarters. _Wait a second;_ my _quarters?_

When they reached his room, she motioned for him to enter first. He solemnly walked inside, Armanya following right behind.

"Please don't yell at me or tell me to forget that-" he began, but she put her hand up to silence him.

"Program: play music," she ordered before a beautiful and slow melody filled the air. "Now. No holograms or computer programmed look-alikes. I know Geordi told you everything about my time on Earth. And I'm okay with it. Yes, it was horrible and tragic, but it doesn't matter now."

Barclay nodded, trying not to have a nervous breakdown. He couldn't tell if she was angry or near tears. But he had to know. "H-how did you get past it? How did you overcome everything that happened?"

"It wasn't easy. I pushed people away here at first. I stayed inside my shell. But Data and Geordi were relentless. They let me know that not everyone is a horrible person. They made me feel worth something for the first time in my life. If it weren't for them and several others on this ship, my story would have had an even more tragic ending. And that's why I wanted to meet you. You were _also_ living inside your shell, using the holodeck as an escape when all you needed were the right people to help you feel worth something. And because of me, you were nearly killed. So I needed to apologize. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

"Neither did I. But I forgive you and I understand. If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing. And sadly, I'm not certain I would have had the courage to go after them."

Armanya smiled. "I believe you would have. And you showed great courage when you showed that dragon who was boss," she finished with a giggle as she pointed to a small cage with a very small dragon inside.

"Huh? How did-wait, he wasn't-?" Barclay gasped.

"He was real, Reg. He was real, the weapons were real, Trelane's house was real and the waiting alligators were real. I was looking for you and found this little guy on the way. I heard what he sounded like before, so I knew you must've been responsible for shrinking him to the size of a gerbil. While I was running towards the cliff, he latched onto my shoe and I stuffed him in my pocket. I didn't think he was real, either, until about three this morning, when I see my uniform start moving. So I put him in here to remind you of what a hero you _are_. You risked your life for me and you ticked Trelane off royally by proving you had what it took. You always did."

Barclay felt himself blush and before he knew it, he had placed his hands on her waist and they began slow dancing to the music. Instead of pulling away, she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Armanya?" he breathed.

"Yeah?"

"How long will he be-Trelane, I mean-"

"I don't know. But something tells me he won't be back for a long time. Q will want to throttle him and I am sure his parents will be livid. Not to mention, he will need to lick his wounds before even _thinking_ of setting foot here again. And if he does, we'll be ready."

"We? We will?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Yes, Silly Reg. _We_ ," she smiled before moving her hands to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a sweet and tender kiss.

Barclay closed his eyes, even after the kiss ended. "Computer, end program."

"What are you doing?" Armanya giggled as he slowly opened one eye.

"I sometimes do that when good things happen. Just to make sure they are real," he confessed, looking down.

Armanya threw back her head and laughed before kissing him again. "Oh, Reg. you truly are something else. And I'm so glad you are."

And for the first time in a very long time, Barclay was glad that he was, too.


End file.
